


Bitter Bubblegum

by gwynndelous (Eristastic)



Series: SouKisu University AU [3]
Category: Free!
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eristastic/pseuds/gwynndelous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn't supposed to find out. Everything was going so well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter Bubblegum

**Author's Note:**

> The great thing about Kisumi's character is, of course, how little of him there is in canon (leaving so much more room to play in fanon). Coincidentally, that's also the most annoying part of it.

Sousuke was slowly learning that there were many, many perks to having a boyfriend who took meticulous care of his appearance and general aesthetic.

Kisumi always looked fantastic, for one, but then, that was sort of a given and Sousuke was just glad that he wasn’t a man of lower self-esteem because otherwise he might have crumpled in the face of such dazzling beauty on a semi-constant basis. Furthermore, he seemed to enjoy cleaning up after Sousuke (one of the few reasons Rin was actually okay with Kisumi staying over so often). But one of the best – and, tragically, often most overlooked – perks was that Kisumi always smelled nice. It wasn’t just one scent, either: he changed it daily, but even if there was an air of jasmine, rose, or moringa (whatever the hell that was) about him, there was always something distinctly Kisumi about it all. It was sewn into his clothes, had seeped into his belongings, and had written itself into every memory Sousuke had of him. Even that one time when his deodorant had exploded and the whole apartment had reeked of frat boy for weeks, Kisumi’s smell had still been there (packaged neatly with his good-natured if slightly mocking laugh).

The true merits of this always came in the morning. Whether Sousuke was a morning person or not had been a much debated subject for years, with Rin fiercely insisting that it didn’t _count_ if you weren’t bright-eyed and bushy-tailed before 8 regularly (for reasons other than school), but no matter the truth, getting up was just nicer when it was to soft sheets imbued with your boyfriend’s unmistakeable scent that you could peacefully drown in. Kisumi always got up earlier too, ready and waiting with coffee and cuddles for whenever Sousuke made his way out of his room like a great bleary bear. Sousuke never gave that too much thought: it wasn’t as if Rin didn’t get up early every morning for a jog, so it shouldn’t surprise him that Kisumi got up earlier than him too.

One morning things went a little differently, though. Sousuke’s shoulder was acting up again and he found himself waking up earlier than usual, his whole upper body aching as if every muscle were compressed by the mattress he’d sunk into through the course of the night. Grumbling, he pushed himself into a sitting position and took a minute to let his head hang groggily as the reality of morning settled into his mind. Thus pacified, he heaved his body out of bed and walked to the bathroom for the muscle cream.

Still somewhat lagged down in a sleepy haze, he only just registered that Kisumi was also at the bathroom mirror. He nodded a greeting and was understandably taken aback (and thoroughly woken up) when Kisumi let out an uncharacteristic choking sound, dropped the long, sort of…straightener?...things he’d been holding into the sink, and crouched back into the wall.

They looked at each other in shocked silence and it was at this point that Sousuke noticed Kisumi’s hair. Usually fairly bouffant in effortless pink waves, it was still its normal vibrant colour, but was sticking up in absolutely every direction, rather like if a lion got stuck in a wind tunnel and was doused in ultra-firm hairspray.

Sousuke decided to break the silence. “Hey…you okay down there?”

That seemed to be enough to bring Kisumi out of his temporal paralysis, and his hands leapt to tame his hair. “Don’t look!”

“I hate to break it to you, Kisi, but I think I’ve already seen it.”

A wave of anguish crossed Kisumi’s face and he dropped to the ground, groaning with his head in his hands. Sousuke crouched next to him and was about to ruffle his hair but, upon realising that that could probably be construed as insensitive, settled for his arm instead.

A small period of melodramatic moaning followed.

“Lots of people get bedhead, you know,” Sousuke offered. “Rin once told me about this one guy Makoto knew who spent over an hour getting ready each morning because his hair was naturally wavy and he didn’t want anyone to know. There’s no shame in it.”

“Of course there’s shame in it, Sou – you don’t know anything,” came Kisumi’s muffled reply. “Naturally straight-haired people can’t know our pain.”

“Oh come on…I’ve seen you in plenty more embarrassing situations than this, haven’t I?”

“Like?”

“Last night.”

“Sex faces don’t count: everyone knows those are hot in the moment.”

“Well, what about the first time we met? You were basically in sweats then.”

“Okay, first of all, that was a carefully styled look and I am _appalled_ that you didn’t recognise its worth.”

“Hey, I thought you were hot enough to ask out, didn’t I?”

“What a charmer.” He didn’t move his hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m just…” he groaned again, throwing out his arms and rolling over to splay out on the bathroom floor with a quivering little pout, “I’ve been doing so _well_. I haven’t been seen by anyone but my family in _years_. This is _awful_.”

“Why?”

Kisumi took a break in his lamenting to glare in Sousuke’s general direction.

“You don’t look that bad, Kisi. I still think you look great.”

“That makes me happy, but I still have an image to maintain, you know?”

Sousuke relieved his now wobbly ankles by moving to sit down properly on the tiles. “I can understand if you’d want to, but I’m the only one who’s found out. Why does it matter?”

“Why does it _matter_?” Kisumi looked at him, incredulous. “I’ve broken the illusion completely!”

Sousuke narrowed his eyes, a small clenching sensation rising in his gut. “Illusion,” he repeated dully.

“Yeah.” Kisumi sighed heavily, but without the drama from before. “It’s not like I didn’t care about my appearance before or anything, far from it, but after you asked me out, I just…because you’re my first real boyfriend since I graduated, I wanted to do everything to perfect my image and it was going great, right? I mean, I was good, right? I love spending time on my hair and clothes and stuff, and I’d have done it anyway, but when I’m with you it’s like there’s more meaning to it. And, I mean, look at you!” He gestured limply to Sousuke’s body. “You’re hot. You’re so, so hot. You’ve got muscles like nobody’s business, you’ve got that whole dark and brooding thing going on despite being a sweetheart, sort of, you can pull off literally anything you wear, it’s just kind of…after a while it felt like I was dressing up to prove I deserved to be next to you, not just because I wanted to or because I wanted to look good for you.”

The words hit Sousuke like poison settling into his stomach. He wanted to counter them a hundred times, a thousand times over with words of his own, telling Kisumi over and over again how much he meant to him; how happy he was with him; how he had never even dreamed of being in a relationship where he could wake up every day excited just to see if there were any new texts waiting for him: how unfounded and incomprehensible those concerns were.

But Sousuke was bad with words. Always had been, always would be, so instead he lay down next to Kisumi and tried, tried as best he could, to say something that would help.

“I don’t think you should think like that. I want you to be happy the way you are, happy the way you dress, and I want you to never have to worry about that sort of thing again. But,” he hesitated, unused to explaining his own feelings because he’d only ever done it with Rin, and Rin always just _knew_ , “I can sort of understand, because, while you’ve been thinking like that, all this time I’ve been thinking what a catch you are, and how lucky I am to have you. You’re hot too, you know. A different type, but still, people do look at you when you enter a room. So I’ve been thinking that way too.”

He turned his head slightly, hair falling into his eyes, to see Kisumi staring back at him.

“Really?” Kisumi asked in a small voice.

Sousuke nodded. “I think that’s just how couples are, sometimes.”

They watched each other a few seconds more, and Sousuke finally relaxed when Kisumi’s eyes closed as he smiled, relieved.

“You…you haven’t been worrying about that all this time, have you?” he tried, hoping it wouldn’t stiffen the tension again.

“I don’t know…” Kisumi looked away, contemplating the question. “It’s not like it’s been constantly on my mind, it’s just that it sometimes pops up, you know? Like seeing you waiting for me on your own, looking unfairly handsome, or when you’re with your friends, or during sex sometimes, or when you’re still sleeping and I have to be careful not to wake you so you don’t see…That sort of thing.”

“Mm. Sorry. For not noticing.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t want you to notice. And, I mean, it’s not that big of a problem. I’ve got pretty great self-confidence otherwise, it’s just those times that things get…bad. And I know it’s stupid – I knew, I’ve always known that you’d probably just tell me it was stupid to worry about it – but that just made me want to hide it harder.”

“Even if it’s stupid, if it’s bothering you, I want to know.”

Kisumi smiled. “Okay.”

Sousuke leaned over to kiss him gently, before leaning over him on one arm. “Do you want to get back to straightening it out now?”

“Yeah. But stay here.”

Nodding, Sousuke pushed himself into a crouch and stood up to help Kisumi to his feet.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly didn't set out to make this so hurt/comfort-y.


End file.
